


Afternoon

by farfetched



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aromantic Character, Aromantic Washio Tatsuki, Birthday, Birthday Fluff, Canon Compliant, Cute, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, It's Konoha's birthday so, M/M, Post-Canon, Queerplatonic Relationships, Self-Indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:29:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26737399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/farfetched/pseuds/farfetched
Summary: It's Konoha's birthday, he's in a QPR with Washio, and he can't quite believe how lucky he is.
Relationships: Konoha Akinori/Washio Tatsuki
Kudos: 10





	Afternoon

Akinori flops heavily down on the sofa next to Washio, exhaling loudly. Practically hearing the raised eyebrow pointed his direction, he grins, eyes still closed.  
“I ate so much, I’m tired,” he explains. He can’t complain, though, at all. Washio’s cooking is good, and that he cooked his favourite food for his birthday? That’s just the icing on the cake. That he also enjoyed. 

“Glad you enjoyed it,” Washio murmurs, relaxing back into the sofa himself and taking his phone out. Akinori’s grin morphs into a pleased smile, unable to hide it. He can’t say this is the future he would ever have seen for himself, in this queer-platonic relationship with Washio, but he’s happier than he thought he could be. He enjoys his job, he loves the team he plays with, he can watch Bokuto playing on TV and Washio playing in person and cheer them on, and occasionally boast about how he nearly won Nationals with Fukurodani. He comes home to a handsome man who lets him love him. It’s more than he ever expected. Maybe some people don’t get how he can be happy with this, watching old teammates go further than him, or loving someone who can’t love him back, but he’s not so bothered about what other people think anymore. It’s his life, and he’s happy with it—the kind of contented glow that means a bad day doesn’t linger, that an argument doesn’t rock the boat too much. 

Turning his head to look at Washio, he just observes him for a moment, his hair loosened from where it was gelled to sharp points this morning, starting to fall into wisps. His eyes flit over his phone screen, scrolling through some site Akinori hasn’t identified. Yeah, he’s pretty lucky; first for rooming with Washio in the first place, and second, for getting into this situation. No one else seems to get it, but as long as the two of them do, that hardly matters. 

Washio catches him looking, and blinks owlishly at him. “Rice on my face?” he asks. Akinori snorts, shaking his head.  
“Am I not just allowed to look?” Akinori retorts, bemused. Washio shrugs, but he doesn’t frown.  
“If you want to,” he returns teasingly. It’s only knowing him so long that he recognises that. He may be a man of few words, but the expression is there amongst them, if you look in the right places. Akinori’s become practiced at that. 

He’s glad that those months of tiptoeing, knowing that Washio didn’t fall in love and trying not to himself, and Washio inevitably finding out regardless, worked out. It could have gotten very awkward, he often thinks, and he might have lost Washio in the midst of that. He’s so, so glad that he didn’t. 

“Thank you.” Washio blinks, puzzled.  
“For what?”  
“For… being here, I guess? Letting me be here? Letting me just… be in love with you? Everything, probably,” Akinori mumbles, his face heating up. He didn’t really mean to say anything, but it’s said now. Probably the beer he had with dinner, loosening his own tongue. Oh well. 

Washio nods, then seems to consider it for a moment, his hand holding his phone dropping into his lap. “It’s not a problem, so…” he starts, pauses, then continues. “I’m glad you’re here, too. You don’t push me.” 

Akinori knew about the girlfriend Washio had gotten, perhaps ill-advisedly, just out of high school and working his way up the volleyball leagues, working odd jobs here and there. He’d even seen her a few times, and she’d not been very good at reading Washio at all. All Akinori had read was discomfort, but he’d not interfered since he’d felt like it wasn’t his place (and some of his reasons for interfering hadn’t exactly been from the right place…). It’d ended fairly quickly, if messily. Akinori had fielded a few phone calls when she wouldn’t give up, Washio had told him about being aromantic, and Akinori learnt quite a lot over that time. 

In the midst of his reminiscing, he misses Washio’s movement, hooking an arm around him, and so yelps when he’s pulled over. He pauses in his fighting when his head lands on Washio’s lap, and his arm remains draped over Akinori. He glances up, ascertaining what this is; Washio seems bemused though, rather than harassed or uncomfortable. Akinori goes with it, shifting so he’s lying on his back. It’s… surprisingly comfortable, even if his heart is going probably a little too fast. Geez, _warn_ a man before doing cute manoeuvres! 

“This is fine,” Washio states, answering the question before it even exits Akinori’s mouth. There’s even a slight hint of a blush on his cheeks. How a man like Washio can be cute, Akinori doesn’t quite know, but he is. Even if Akinori is not going to say it. Somehow, he doesn’t think it would be appreciated the way he means it.  
“All the time, or occasionally?” Akinori murmurs, lacing his fingers together over his stomach and tilting his knees to rest against the back of the sofa. Washio hums.  
“If you ask, most of the time,” he returns, to which Akinori nods. “You make a convenient phone rest.” Which he proves by placing his phone on Akinori’s head. Akinori just huffs a laugh.  
“Wow, Washio. So cold,” he remarks, ruining any dramatic effect by smiling at the same time. There’s a pause, though, afterwards; no movement on the phone, so he knows Washio’s not distracted by that. Peering up with one eye, Washio has the look of calculating something. 

“My first name is fine, too.” He murmurs.  
“Huh. Okay,” Akinori says, distinctly calmer than he actually feels. “So… ‘Tatsuki’. Right?” It’s not like he doesn’t remember, but it’ll take getting used to—and not just the habit. His heart’s going some as well. He knows not to read anything more into it, but it’s still a big step. “I’ll try and remember.” 

Washio nods, but if Akinori looks closely, there’s a small smile there. He mirrors it with his own, a initial bursting sort of happiness in his chest, simmering into that warmth of contended happiness after a while, once Washio has returned to scrolling on his phone, showing Akinori the occasional amusing photo he finds. 

Yeah, he’s lucky. So intensely lucky, he can’t really believe it, but the warmth under his head is real, Washio is still there when he opens his eyes, and he can just sit here and listen. A first name as a birthday present of sorts doesn’t sound much, but it’s a lot to him; he thinks, maybe, this is probably one of the best birthdays he’s had yet. 

Long may it continue, he thinks, as he dozes off. With this peaceful co-existence, long may it continue.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! It's Konoha's birthday as I post this (and mine) and bc I love him I wanted to post something cute. Hopefully this fitted the bill! Washio is a little hard to write, but I hope I did him at least a little justice here!  
> I adore the fact that 'Birthday Fluff' is an actual tag. And that I can use it.


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